“The land that time forgot” was how I was sold the secret location where ormers were in abundance. Turn a few stones and I would be rewarded with the mother of all “feeds”. I was seduced.
This afternoon I visited this patch of coastline which the entire island had overlooked in their folly to rush to the lowest tide point. Located a few moments from a slipway (I say no more lest I reveal the whereabouts of these most secret rocks) I would be richly rewarded.
Needless to say it was not quite as described by the old hand at the low water fishing game. Turning boulders produced only one ormer. At least it was of a respectable size. Its measurements were above the statutory minimum of 9cm, which coincidentally is the length of my index finger. That’s always a handy guide when struggling to decide if the catch is undersize and should be left to reproduce and for another day.